


A Lot of Broken Legs

by Lunarch



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Theatre, Eventual Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 01:12:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4984114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarch/pseuds/Lunarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Varric Tethras has spent most of his life in Kirkwall trying to write the play that will propel him to stardom. Cassandra Pentaghast is a die-hard fan of his work in the theater. Something something both lives will change when they meet together when another play happens you get the idea. Modernish AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lot of Broken Legs

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to leave any and all comments on this. Critiques, flaming, praising, etc. I'm cool with it. Thank you so much for reading.

_Enter Varric._

_The Kirkwall Actors Guild_. Not the most prestigious of associations and certainly not as organized as the fancy title would suggest.

However, what;s lacking in aesthetic charm and proper business model is made up for by the love of the performing arts and sheer determination–bordering on stubbornness–to break the ceiling.

To one day put on a show so mind-blowing that it would be shown at Val Royeaux’s Grand Ballroom for all the Orlesian yuppies and Fereldan classical critics to foam at the mouth over.

“Yeah…wouldn’t that be something.” Varric Tethras. Alright actor, much better playwright and seemingly the only one in this city who knows what the hell a thespian is.

Tonight is the last performance of “The Tale of the Champion” and so far every night at the local auditorium has been filled to max capacity…mostly by deadbeats who may or may have not been promised free drinks and coupons for the Blooming Rose. The girls are very appreciative of the service so it’s really a win/win for all parties.

“Varric!!” The voice of a great friend and cause of many a migraine rings through the basement. “Varric, I can’t find my blasted shield anywhere!”

“Oh I don’t know, Hawke…say, did you check the closet specifically designated to house the props for the show?”

Varric points to said closet that is open and The Beloved Champion of Krikwall herself slowly turns to see the sought after shield.

“…Apparently not. Thanks.”

Across the room, one extremely attractive pirate is helping a flowery Dalish girl put on her makeup.

“Stop fidgeting around Kitten and let me finish you up.”

“Ohh I’m sorry Isabela it’s just so…itchy!”

“I know I know it’s quite the bitch but you’ll look absolutely lovely. Even more so than you do now…oh and look the boys are at it again,” The pirate captain overhears a squabble out back…and sure enough it’s the usual culprits…Anders and Fenris. Shocking.

“If you would stop with your cold-shouldering and work with me here we could maybe, just maybe have the best night of this long week of shows!”

“I don’t think you’re in any place to judge my knowledge of my lines just because you have a much larger part in all of this, O Powerful Justice!”

“How does my role fit into this conversation about work ethic!?”

“This is no conversation. This is one anal show-off prattling on and worrying about others when he should mind his own business!”

“Hey I have a suggestion?” The Rivaini beauty stepping in having heard enough arguing for one week “How’s about the both of you grab a room at a motel and we find two boys who aren’t oozing sexual tension to play your roles?”

After the faux (maybe) request leaves both the broody elf and the blonde mage silent and going about their own businesses.

“Thanks, Rivaini. You always know how to render men speechless.”

“My pleasure, Varric…may I have a reward?” Isabela always going for the chest-hair.

“Heheh maybe after the show. When we’ll be too out of our minds to remember anything the next day.”

“Ohh Varric…it’s dangerous to make promises.” The propensity for mutual flirting is an art-form in itself.

Time to finish checking on the cast. It’s a burden being a fellow actor and at the same having to be the asshole keeping track of everyone else.

“Choir Boy, you finished up with your secondary reading yet?” Sebastian having script in hand and The Good Book open next to him. Always looking so damn chipper.

“Hahah I am all set. Just praying for one more excellent night.” Former Chantry brother proving that there is such a thing as too much positivity.

“Alright alright just make sure you don’t start blessing the crowd like on the first night…some of these people don’t even know where they are.”

“Duly noted. May the Maker be on our side tonight.”

It’s astounding how one can find a person who matches a character to the point where you question whether you wrote them to life.

The same cannot be any more different than the big bad Arishok who was pacing back and forth like he was waiting to be put to death.

“Hey there you’re doing fine. You’ve been consistently the scariest fucking thing in the entire place for all five nights. I think you’ll be fine for this last one.”

“I know I know Varric it’s nothing…hahah…I’ll be okay I’m just you know…excited!”

Torajal Adaar was a lot of things; built like a brick shithouse, very expressive, one hell of an actor…but a convincing liar he’d never be unfortunately.

“Look kid…I didn’t cast you because I couldn’t find any other Qunari and had to settle. I didn’t cast you because I thought you were a bumbling shithead. You’re the Arishok because you get the fucking character and perform him damn well now…let’s get this shit done and I swear I will buy any and all of your drinks tonight. What do you say?”

“…Let-Let us do this.”

One day this kid’s going to be lauded as a juggernaut of a star. And deserving of a lot better than performing in some shitty auditorium in a shittier town.

Almost everyone’s filed in. Just in time.

“Okay Tale of the Champion cast and crew gather ‘round!”

One last look around at this amazing group of people. Andraste’s Tits this is it.

“First off, I want to say how much you all have killed it this week and I could not be more proud. I know that year after year it’s been tough getting attention outside of Hightown and even then…they’ve been admittedly hesitant to promote us further.”

Great job with the boosting morale, ass. However, all it takes is looking at Hawke’s face.

Full of determination. Full of hope. A better tomorrow.

Our Champion.

“But fuck all of those detractors! They will never appreciate the magic that resonates through those watching our hard work. These last few months have been some of the best and I’m more than proud to call you my companions. Now..let’s show this town that there’s still some life left in it.”

I want you all to make it.

“Break A Leg!”

I want to make it.

 

* * *

 

_Enter Cassandra._

The Central Auditorium in Hightown, Kirkwall is not a very lively atmosphere. Especially for a play about a hero saving the city from a tyrannical warlord.

The Kirkwall Actors Guild has put on so many of these magnificent performances and what do they get to show for it? Some gym in the lousiest part of the nicest part of the lousiest city in the Marches? Unforgivable.

This is why continuing going to these shows might give them…give him the chance to perform in front of more than just 200 people…more than half of them drunk off their ass.

Myself included in this bunch. This is what one suffers to enjoy art.

“Welcome! Come in, get your ticket and please seat yourself wherever.”

“Oh, thank you very much.”

“Enjoy the show, miss!”

“I shall.”

Yes, this may be the sixth time I have come to watch the same play.

However I feel that every time there is something new brought into each performance. Something that the playwright--the genius--puts into each night that not only adds to its magnificence but manages to drag you into the journey.

You become a piece of the play itself. That immersion is what makes Varric Tethras’ plays so engaging. So incredible.

Maker help me I was a fool from the beginning…

The Seekers Agency traveled around Thedas looking for possible enemies of the Maker. It’s not by any means an emotionally rewarding task and is essentially one of the most thankless jobs you could find in Thedas.

However anything would be better than having to live a life of false grandeur and the media shoved down your throat…royalty is not all that is made out to be. Especially for a stupid girl in the heart of war torn Nevarra.

One day, the Agency happened to come through Lowtown in search of some rogue mages causing trouble in an already dismal part of the city.

After dealing with business…and not capturing the targets one of the men found an advertisement for a show that evening.

“Swords & Shields, Tales of Romance and Combat” by Varric Tethras and the Kirkwall Actors Guild

I remember uttering what my men said to me was my ‘signature disgusted noise’ but they were very discouraged and in need of a ‘good laugh’ they said so I caved…

What they would later consider ‘one of the worst pieces of lovey dovey schlock they’d ever seen’ changed…it changed everything. It somehow tapped into the inner romantic in me and at first I didn't understand these feelings...

I only knew I had to see more.

However as it was I would never be able to reveal my interest in the works of this…this Dwarf to anyone in the Agency. i was too proud. Too…too ashamed.

So I would keep up-to-date the schedule of Kirkwall’s acting troupe and of Varric’s blog…hopefully he never finds out the identity of dragonheart7 lest I never show myself in public again.

Every year I attend every show and make sure that I am hidden well enough so that I may never be seen. Appreciating the work from afar.

It is how it should be.

To let myself be carried away from the harsh world outside and enveloped into the arms of the world that Varric Tethras has given to me-wait…I hear…Applause.

The crowd is applauding. It can’t be.

No. I…I missed the entire performance.

Fuck. Was I so wrapped up in my own daft thoughts that I missed…everything?

They are all out in a line next to each other. Bowing. Showing their appreciation for our time. And…and I occupied myself with my own stupid…

Oh. Am-am I crying? Oh…Oh no I have to leave before anyone sees me.

“Ex-excuse me. I’m terribly sorry. Pardon me please.”

 

* * *

 

What a fucking amazing performance. All went off without a hitch, as it always manages to happen with us. Incredible…now time to drink-hey is that who I think it is?

Is she…leaving…in tears?

Shit, this must be bad.

 

* * *

 

The tears are pouring out. This is so humiliating. I just need to stay back here and not think about any of this.

“I…I’m sorry.” Quietly pleading to nothing like it will make me feel any better.

“While our shows do encourage some people to wretch...I certainly hope it wasn’t that bad.”

It’s him. It’s...oh Maker please no not now not after all this time.

“Please leave me I don’t want anything please go!”

“Now now…seeing as you’re my biggest fan I think I have a right to know why you’re crying on the side of the street instead of applauding with your usual exuberance”

“Damn it please just don’t bother I am fine just-Wait could you repeat that last part?”

“Oh do you honestly think I haven’t noticed the obviously disguised Seeker in the audience of the last three plays I’ve done? You underestimate my desire for attention.”

Well. Shit.

_Cassandra exits. Varric exits._

_End of Act One_


End file.
